Shell Shock
by itneverends
Summary: In the last chapter of Deathly Hallows, Harry Potter finishes off the Dark Lord. Families are celebrating, and in their midst are the Malfoys, feeling a bit out of place. How is Draco feeling now that everything he once knew is going to change?
1. Installment I

***Le disclaimer* I don't own Harry Potter (WHAAT?) or the Alesana lyrics.**

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><p><strong>Installment I<strong>

"_Maybe I am crazy, and my mind is trying to deceive me…"_

My back started to knot up from sitting hunched up at the broken Slytherin house table. Or whatever table it was. Nothing was where it was supposed to be anymore.

I could feel Mother's breath on the nape of my neck. She hadn't released her death grip on my elbow since she'd found me aimlessly wandering the deserted classroom corridors. Her face was white as a sheet, and for the first time in my life I saw worry lines and crow's feet etched into her pale complexion. Still no laugh lines.

Mother kept glancing around anxiously. Never liked being judged, did she? Her actions were quite the contrary to Father, who you could only tell was inhaling and exhaling by close examination. His hands were clasped in his lap, but loosely. He was almost reptilian, as he hadn't moved so much as an inch in ten minutes.

I was leaning on one elbow on the table, rubbing my temple with one hand and clutching at my chest with another. What's it like to have everything you know snatched out from under you?

Oh, that's right, you wouldn't know, would you?

You've never had to deal with your cold-blooded aunt visiting just after she'd broken out of prison, and watching her almost strangle your father for not being faithful. You didn't have to attempt to kill someone at 16, under the threat of your family being murdered. You've never had to deal with your family being on the wrong side from the beginning, and never having a choice between what is good or bad.

But are we acceptable now? I can't decide. Mother lied to the Dark Lord. To find me? So she's good now. Fine.

But me? I know I'll be stuck in this limbo my entire life. I still tried to protect whatever it was that _Potter_ wanted in the Room of Requirement. He _saved my life_. But all I did was try to return to what I knew.

My head was pounding. Too many thoughts and concerns and worries and emotions at once. Not used to that.

I shook off Mother and stood up abruptly. I needed to be alone.

She immediately turned her attention back to me, panicked. There was something else in her expression I wasn't able to name.

"Just… Need some air." I told her evasively. She had risked everything to try to save me after all. I wasn't just going to let her know that the way she was acting was making me sick.

I tried my best not to look like a sulking child as I swept past the exultant friends and families celebrating the fall of the Dark Lord together. I made sure not to look anyone in the eye or even close as I whisked by them.

Their losses weren't my fault. They had never been my fault.

I could have made everything worse.

I protected Potter when he, the ginger and the mudblood had stumbled into my house after all! I could have just thrust him to Bellatrix. He owed me. Yeah. That's right. I didn't owe him anything after that. And after what I did, he still took my wand!

I shot a furtive glance over to where Potter had been sitting with that airhead, Lovegood. It was his fault I had nowhere to go. My mother risked her life for him! Potter was always fond of attention, wasn't he? I'm sure he was just basking in his little limelight.

But he wasn't sitting with Loony anymore. There were still small huddles scattered across the Great Hall. I'm sure he was in one of them, letting all of his admirers fawn over him. Potter. Always craving attention. And worse, always getting it.

I paused at the entrance of the Great Hall, pressing my hand against the icy marble.

Everything was about to change.

"_As the ground vanishes I wonder; will the sky be the next to fail me?"_

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><p><em>First Harry Potter FF! Whoo! Thank you so much for reading :) And if you have the chance, a review would be greatly appreciated!<em>

_The next installment (I'm projecting it to be three or four total) will be ready maybe tomorrow!_


	2. Installment II

**I don't own Draco, *Snape voice* obviously.**

**And I don't own the Alesana lyrics either :)**

**Installment II**

"_Paint abandons canvas, and my brush can't seem to start again from scratch."_

I walked uninterrupted through the school hallways. The only sound was of my dusty shoes clicking on the cracked tile. I didn't know where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to keep moving.

Despite the corridors being silent, I kept shooting anxious glances over my shoulder to make sure no one would see me. If anyone did, they wouldn't say anything, I'm sure. Only look at me like I was a pathetic little brat. Being a sore loser.

Maybe that's what I was. Some whiny child, clinging to his mother. Denying his guilt over and over, only to have his true loyalty proven again and again.

Some may say I chose the easy way out. Hah! I scoffed bitterly. Right. Easy? Living in constant fear is easy? Having to make sure to not show weakness or disloyalty, every day. That's easy?

It took me a moment to register that I had come to a fork at the end of the hallway. I appraised either direction. The left passage was interrupted by a body lying spread-eagled across the floor. As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't stop staring. There were cracks in the marble and a pool of blood where his skull must have impacted the ground. Hard.

The longer I looked, the harder it became. At least my family had gotten out of the war fully intact. Physically speaking.

I forced my eyes shut to break my gaze, and turned to start shuffling down the right hallway. A slight sob escaped from my throat. My hands rushed up to my face to stop the sound, but there was nothing I could do. I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest to stop the sobbing, but that only resulted in tears.

I supposed that was an improvement. That way someone would have to see me to know what a pathetic state I was in, instead of hearing me first.

Had my father chosen someone else to duel with, he could have wound up just like that man. I suppose Potter could have left Goyle and me to perish in the flames that had taken Crabbe… And Mum could have been seen as she rushed back into the castle to find me after Potter was found alive.

But anyone could have gotten into the crossfire, I realized with a jolt. What if someone fleeing had gotten hit? Would I want to admit to being on the side that caused innocent deaths? I shook off that thought quickly and wiped my hands off on my singed jacket.

I came to another fork and, still not having a final destination, picked a direction randomly. It was only after continuing down the passage for a few minutes, that I realized where I was headed. After that, my feet carried me subconsciously to the broken stone gargoyle that led up to the Headmaster's Office.

I got lost in thought again, in the middle of the hallway. I didn't notice when three voices started ringing through the halls. The acoustics of the school had been weakened with the destruction however, and I couldn't tell who it was. I spun around quickly to find the source of the noise.

No one was there. Even the paintings were empty.

The voices continued, so I shuffled behind a pile of rubble quickly, and peered around the corner. After a few moments, the voices died out. I squinted at the wall at the other end, trying to make out a shadow of anyone approaching.

A sigh of relief escaped my lungs. It was awkward enough sitting in the Great Hall where I obviously didn't belong. To meet anyone in the hallway might just push me over the cliff I was already balancing precariously on.

I stood up from my squatting position as soon as I thought I was in the clear. I hadn't anticipated the three people I was most fearing to meet turning around the corner as soon as I had made myself visible.

I slid back into the shadow of the rubble again, watching Potter and his two friends silently enter the Headmaster's Office.

They all stood with their heads held high. I wished for a fraction of a second that I could be feeling how they were; triumphant and proud of being the downfall of evil. That thought went away quickly; as no matter what scenario I put myself in, my parents would always be the same.

I didn't know what kept me sitting there in the dust – maybe the fact that Potter could emerge at any second, the continued skepticism of his true motives, or something else altogether – but I found that my feet stayed rooted to the spot.

The squatting position became very uncomfortable, and I sat on the marble floor.

Waiting.

"_As I watch everything unravel; Why should I even try to stop the collapse?"_

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	3. Installment III

**Installment III**

Not many people can honestly apologize.

Not many people can apologize at all.

There always seems to be some sort of resentment, or pride left over. Apologizing wholeheartedly takes a lot more out of someone than most people think. If the deed was great, at least.

After stealing a cookie before dinner and being caught by Mum, you apologize. But you still are happy with snitching it. It doesn't matter to you that you did a bad thing.

Although, if she gives you the chance to confess and you deny being guilty, it changes. You feel worse.

And the stakes rise if you are caught.

Instead of a minor scolding, because of the unconvincing lie, you are subjected to a longer lecture.

But what if she gives you another chance to put yourself in the clear? You might shamefully admit to both of the crimes. But no, instead you're afraid of can how she'll punish you, and you lie again.

Even if she can smell the chocolate in your breath, you continue to lie to her.

Eventually she gives up trying. And she can say that she gave you the chance to prove yourself, but instead you made yourself look like a fool.

It was only there, crouching behind that pile of rubble, that I let myself remember how Dumbledore had offered to take me in.

How could I keep blaming my wrong choices on my parents, when I was clearly at fault? They were only the instigators of my path down the wrong road.

Sure, my father always told me how our pureblood family was superior to those of Muggle descent, but that didn't mean I should have spewed insults at Granger at every opportunity.

My hands shook with anger at myself for being such an ignorant prat.

For two years I had been shunting the memory of Dumbledore attempting to aid me out of my mind; my fear of having made the wrong decision haunted me.

But one thing that kept me insistent that I was right – Why would Dumbledore try to help me, _me_, after I had spent my entire year trying to kill him in vain?

He was bluffing.

He never had faith in me, and rightly so.

Potter, on the other hand… Even his wrong choices seemed to be right.

Saving me from the fire for example; he shouldn't have. He really shouldn't have. But he did. Because he's the hero, and it was the right thing to do.

I'm not saying _he_ had the easy life, of course not. Even I'm not dumb enough to think that.

Sure, I'd created that illusion in my head for about six years – but after actually seeing him fighting… There was no way I could trick myself into thinking that anymore.

There were nights – such as the on after Potter's visit to my _lovely_ home – where I imagined what could have happened if I had only swallowed my pride, and joined Dumbledore on the edge of that tower.

Those were restless nights.

After about maybe twenty minutes of sitting, there came the recognizable sound of footsteps on marble, accompanied my light murmurs. Soon, Potter and his friends were visible again. I went back to my crouching position, just in case they looked my way.

Weasley stumbled down the last step and into the broken gargoyle, who moaned. Granger tightened her grip on his hand, and gave him a scolding look.

Potter was walking a bit slower than his friends. About a quarter of the way down the hall, he was a few paces behind.

I started to stand up to reveal myself to him, but decided it was too risky and crouched back down. It didn't wind up mattering, however, as I had taken a step getting up, and my foot landed on a chunk of stone. It seemed to make a whole lot of noise in the silent hallway.

Maybe that was just me, as Weasley and Granger kept walking. Potter only tilted his head slightly, and turned back for a fraction of a second before regrouping with his friends.

He nudged Weasley. "Hey. You two go back to your family in the Great Hall. I'll catch up with you." My stomach lurched. Had he seen me?

Did I want him to see me?

After giving Potter a weird look but seeming to understand not to question him, Weasley led Granger out of sight.

Potter just stood there, facing away from me. After a moment, he turned to the wall, and started examining an empty portrait.

What was so interesting about it? I wondered, watching him study the backdrop closely. It was only as he was slowly walking to the next frame that it clicked.

I stood up, which proved difficult after squatting for so long. Potter was looking determinedly in the opposite direction.

Now or never.

"Th… Thank you," I mumbled, barely louder than a whisper, the words catching in my throat.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to think of what else I could say that wouldn't sound arrogant.

Apart from the fact that he had stiffened a considerable amount, and had stopped pretending to be fascinated by the portraits, Potter showed no sign of hearing me. I took a deep breath and walked up next to him. He didn't acknowledge my presence.

"P-Potter?" I said softly, never looking up from the floor. His eyes flicked toward me for a second, and then back to the wall. Somehow I was grateful of this. "I just… You didn't have to save me from Crabbe's – " My voice cracked as I remembered my friend. Potter actually turned his head to face me.

"You didn't have to save me from that fire," I tried again, "but you did. It would've been better for you to let me and Goyle fall, but you turned back for me. Why?"

Potter thought for a moment. "I don't really know. I thought you would have changed, I guess."

"Changed..."

He grew a bit more hostile. "Changed, as in maybe, you would have helped the cause, and not just gone to cry to your Mum."

"My _Mum_, is the reason you're _alive_, Potter," I sneered, but regretted it.

"Well you know Malfoy, if you really –" I held up a hand to stop him.

I leaned against the wall, and let myself slide down as I buried my face in my hands.

Potter leaned over me, and looked surprised when he saw how red my face had gotten.

"Potter, I –" My eyes welled up. "I don't know… I can't… I'm sorry. For everything." I stood back up as I figured out what I had been trying to say. "I feel like a prat, I know I've always been one." I paused, so he could agree if he wanted to. But Potter just looked at me sideways, trying to figure me out. "But it's too late to prove myself now. I'm not going to be like my father, like a coward, and pretend all of this wasn't my own doing. It was."

"He would have killed you." Potter looked at me, full on.

"Yes, but – "

"He would have killed your family."

"But – "

"You were trying to be brave."

"No, I was just being stupid – "

"MALFOY! Listen to me," Potter yelled, wiping his forehead. He reached out a hand as if to put it on my shoulder, but retreated instantly. "You were a prat when you were younger. So was my dad. So was Snape. So were a lot of brilliant witches and wizards."

"POTTER. LISTEN TO ME. I AM NOT – " I insisted.

"NO, YOU'RE NOT. But you CAN be." I opened my mouth to speak again, but he shut me down. "It's not _completely_ your fault. Voldemort has – _had_ – that effect on people! You're being too hard on yourself."

"No, I'm not! All of those things I said to you, and Weasley, and Granger, and Longbottom, and every other person I thought was beneath me – " Why wasn't he letting me take the fall for my actions? I DESERVE what I'm getting.

"You've changed since then! Have you ever REALLY wanted to be a Death Eater? Once you truly found out what it meant? Did you ever REALLY want to murder Muggle-borns?" Potter inquired.

As I thought about it, the weight that had been clutching at my chest for the past year vanished. "No… No, I didn't…"

Potter sighed, and then grinned. "I knew you were all talk."

I tried to smile, but more than likely it turned into a grimace.

"It's okay. All of those things. But it's not just me you need to apologize to."

My heart sank. Why did I have to be a monster to so many people…?

Harry set a hand on my shoulder before walking away. "Trust me. They'll feel so much better, if they just get an apology."

I nodded slowly in his direction, and felt a weak smile falter on my face.

I was going to change the Malfoy name. Forever.

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><p><strong>AN: GUYS GUYS GUYS THIS IS THE FIRST STORY I HAVE _EVER_ FINISHED!**

***Le proud***

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and for those of you that reviewed, whether it was on the site or on my Snape page, I love you, and your support gives me the warm fuzzies and made me finish :)**

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